Lockwood's Own Hauntings
by NinjaChick456
Summary: When Lockwood and Co are onto a regular case, something weird happens to Lockwood. He sees something that changes him. Lucy and George are worried and don't know what to do...read for more details...based on middle of first book, Screaming Staircase...don't own any characters...sorry short chapters and a very short story...busy with school..let me know if you guys want another one
1. NotesThoughts

Would you guys like this to have a slight romance side….? Tell me in comments please….. Thanks for reading!


	2. First Encounter

Lucy watched fearfully as the ghost-lock took effect on Lockwood as well. She was trying to fight it off with great difficulty, but she saw even Lockwood struggling. Still, the ghost was hidden, and that was one of her greatest fears; the unknown. Their client had said something about things being tossed and ruffled about, and they had presumed it to be a Poltergeist. However, the clues showed to a Changer, as already they had seen a walking skeleton, flesh rotting of its yellowed bones. This apparition had long since disappeared, and now they had no knowledge of its location.

"Lucy," Lockwood managed. "Someone from behind you wants to spread greeting." He spoke in a calm, soothing voice, not unlike one used when speaking to a pet or even an. injured person. Slowly, Lucy pressured through the chill and casually turned 90 degrees on the landing on which she was standing. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw it, standing atop the stairs, merely a few feet away. It had no shape to her, just a glowing mass, resembling a human; its strength was just now growing.

"Lockwood," Lucy sang back. "Shall I join you?" She spoke just as calmly as he had. When she got no response, she slowly turned her head back around. Lockwood was gone.

Almost forgetting about the ghost above her, she walked backwards down the remaining steps before something grabbed her from behind.

Before she could make a noise, a very solid hand covered her mouth. She recognized the burn on the top of the palm and relaxed. It was only Lockwood.

"Lucy." He said, his voice completely drained on his original carefree accent. "Rapier." No sooner had he released her and she had drawn her iron blade, then it drifted down to the landing. She backed up against the wall, Lockwood beside her. His face was pale and she could feel the strong malise. Both blades were pointed towards the figure, which had focused more in Lucy's view.

It seemed to be a young boy, who looked somewhat familiar to her, though she couldn't remember why or who he was.

"Plan R," Lockwood whispered, his body shaking. The words echoed in Lucy's ears. Plan R meant abandon the case without trying anything. They had never been spoken in all the time she had been with Lockwood and Co.

The door was behind them and a few feet to the left, so they were easily able to leave. Shutting the door behind them, Lucy sensed the ghost's feeling of strong hatred and anger.

Lockwood said no word the entire trip back.


	3. Unknown Ideas

Pushing open the front door to Lockwood and Co headquarters, George was waiting there.

"That was quick," he smiled. "Go well?" Upon seeing Lockwood's unchanging expression, he turned to Lucy, who shrugged worriedly. "You didn't have to use Plan R did you?" He asked, clearly not understanding Lockwood's longed for silence.

"Let's….let's talk about it later," Lucy sighed. Lockwood went to his room upstairs; trudging in a slow manner that wasn't his. After glancing an anxious look at the stairs, George pulled Lucy downstairs to the meeting room.

"Well," he sighed, ignoring the donuts sitting in front of him. Lucy almost smiled; were the situation better. "What happened. Tell me everything."

"It was going fine except it seemed we had to visitors: a Poltergeist and a Changer. One of them was at the top of the stairs so I went down, Lockwood waiting at the bottom." Lucy sighed again, unsure how to continue. "It followed us down the stairs and we were ready, that was until Lockwood saw it. His Sight is better than mine, but all I saw was a boy around 13 or 14 maybe. He was wearing a silly-looking jacket with pockets covering nearly the entire material."

George had gone pale, and he mumbled the next few words softly.

"Did you see his face?" His expression matched Lockwood's when he first saw it.

"No, it was blurry, I told you, Lockwood's…" He cut her off with a hand wave.

"Impossible," he groaned quietly. "It can't be. According to EVERYTHING it can't be. But it has to…" he broke off, looking close to tears, something very out of place, like him eating a salad. He suddenly stood up and went upstairs, whether to his or Lockwood's room Lucy didn't know. She was left alone to her thoughts before she gave up and went to bed. Passing their doors, she heard George speaking softly, and Lockwood mumble something about, "not knowing how."

Mind full of ideas, she walked up into the attic and slung her coat off. It was only one in the morning, normally their cases continued until three. She sighed before drifting down onto her bed and allowing sleep to take her. She hated not knowing what was going on….


	4. Understanding

The next morning when Lucy went downstairs, she found no breakfast made for the first time ever. Lockwood was nowhere to be found, and George was reading a newspaper article; obviously not recent. She prepared herself so plain toast before sitting down at the table with some water. Setting the glass down, she noticed some new writing on the tablecloth.

It read: _"Robin: shows unrelated deaths and possible access to mind/fears?"_ She looked over at George and saw the date on the newspaper: a few years back. So that was what Lockwood had seen, him and George's old colleague. She remembered Lockwood saying something about him "passing on," and she could just sense his discomfort at the subject.

"George," she said, breaking the silence. "What is going on?" He looked up at her and frowned.

"I don't know." He replied simply, and it was Lucy's turn to frown.

"If you don't mind me asking," she began cautiously. "What happened to…to…." She found herself unable to continue.

"He was ghost-touched," a voice behind her made both George and Lucy spin around. "It was my fault." Lockwood sat down on the stairs, his expression one she had never seen on him before; pure sadness. "Somehow, the ghost must be accessing into our minds, finding out our…"

"Our fears and worries." George finished. He turned to look at Lucy. "Lockwood strongly, and unnecessarily, blames poor Robin's death on himself. The ghost can sense it, so it turned into it."

"This is unlike any Visitor we have known. Maybe they have advanced," Lucy put out.

"Possible," George said. "As for now, Lockwood, we have to finish that case. Mrs. Irving is very angry that we just left. She is giving us one more day, though she took a quarter of the pay off."

"Understood," he sighed, standing up. "Tonight we will go again, and this time I won't be bothered. Lucy, I may need you to help me get it together." With that he seemed to be a bit more of himself. "George," he half-smiled. "What's for breakfast?"


	5. Quick Case

The sun's light stretched across the furniture where the trio sat thinking. It was late afternoon, and they would all be going to continue the case; hoping that another person would be there to help should Lucy and Lockwood need it.

"So we have our final though then?" George asked before shoveling in a tart. He swallowed it and nearly choked. "About the ghosts evolving?"

"It only makes sense," Lucy sighed. "This long must have sparked some sort of change."

"Oi," Lockwood shouted suddenly, making George spit out the next tart he had just placed into his mouth. "If they are changing, how do we manage it? It could do almost anything!" He looked worried, but at least he was himself again, not the moody and quiet one he was earlier.

"Well," George began. "If they are gaining strength, for all we know it could be just that one ghost. You said it was a possible Poltergeist and even a Changer too. I don't know what to assume. One could distract us."

"Then we simply expect two or more. We need to prepare for the worst." Lockwood stated.

"I just hope that it doesn't turn out that way. How could someone, or some-people, who were crushed underneath a bookcase be that strong. I mean, the only way we should be too worried is…"

George cut her off. "A murder. It or they could've been murdered and are searching for revenge. It always seems to be that way."

"Rather optimistic, are we George?" Lockwood shook his head slightly. "And don't think we didn't see you take two tarts." He and Lucy both reached out and took one. "Dat's bet'er." He said with a mouthful of tart." A clock rang out, signaling the time: seven thirty.

"Everything all set?" Lockwood asked, standing up. The others followed suit. Grabbing their bags and rapiers, George shoved something into his pocket. It was a failed attempt to hide something; the cherry-filling of the tart squeezed all over his coat.

"You could've just asked, George." Lucy laughed, but Lockwood's mind was elsewhere.

After being dropped off at the location by a cab, they found the door to the place unlocked.

"Forgot to tell you, she felt meeting us again was merely a waste of time." George murmured. "Let's get in; it is a bit nippy out." Indeed it was, and as they stepped inside, they knew it was going to be a chilly fall night.

They dropped their bags off in the kitchen, where Lucy began to make tea. George spread some papers out, and Lockwood did another tour of the house. When he returned, they took their regular measurements. A clock rang out, this one deeper and it echoed off the walls and into their ears; feeling as though it bounced around for a year. Ten o'clock.

It wasn't until after eleven that something happened. Lucy was taking measurements when she began to feel the malaise kick in. She calmly walked across the house to where Lockwood and George sat, Lockwood reading a gossip magazine and George a newspaper. They glanced up and she nodded.

Hand on their belts, they worked their way into the room where the stairs that it had formed on lay. They could all sense something, but even Lockwood saw no stirring or glows.

"We have to go up," George gestured. "Don't we?" Lockwood nodded.

"Last time we were here, we never got up there yet. I was starting up when…" Lucy began, stopping at the look on Lockwood's face. "I will go first I suppose."

They all began up, the stairs permitting them only two beside each other. Lucy fell in front, while the two boys walked side-by-side. The first room on the right side was a bathroom, nothing interesting. The next a bare box of walls, and the third. The door at the end of the hall was promising though. Lockwood opened the wooden door and stepped back.

It was bare like the others, except for a bookcase, lying on the ground. Approaching with caution, they soon realized it was only a detailed glow.

"Anything Lockwood," George asked, spinning around in the room. Lucy walked over to the wall where the bookcase would have been connected.

"There are marks, like it was bolted in place." She turned around to face them. "It couldn't have just fallen.

George and Lockwood were both staring at the shadow of the bookcase. Even though her Sight wasn't anywhere close to Lockwood's she saw something moving. Both boys took a step back, Lucy with them. A figure rose from the shelf and the feeling of ghost-lock covered them.

Lockwood shook it off first, and he tossed a packet of salt onto the shadow. It and the case disappeared with a small hiss.

"Same weaknesses," George sighed. "That could've been bad if not."

"It's so odd," Lucy said. "Nothing in the room that could be the source." George glanced at his sketch of the house's layout.

"This is above the sitting room, the one next to the kitchen." He pointed his flashlight back up and made to place it onto his belt.

"You keep that on," Lockwood said. "Lucy and I will put ours away, so this time we can have a closer look."

The room wasn't small by any means; it could've fit a large crowd easily, though something about how it felt made it seem like a closet. They waited for a while, and the shadow of the bookcase changed, this time just a boy.

The way Lockwood and George stood made it clear to Lucy that this was the boy named Robin. It didn't move, just stared at them sadly. It wore the same odd coat, with pocket covering every possible place it could. Lockwood suddenly walked out of the room, leaving the other two no choice but to follow.

"Are you bothered?" Lucy asked softly, George standing in the hallway between them and the room.

"It's just," he sighed. "This is how it was before." His face changed. "That's it. Follow me, don't worry about the Visitor."

They walked down the hallway and down the stairs, nearly running to keep up with his pace.

"This better help," Lucy said. "I'm not walking around a haunted house for exercise." He stopped inside the sitting room, directly below the ghost above.

"Search for a photo-case, a frame or something or that sort." He began ruffling through the junk crowding the few coffee-tables sitting in the room. They gathered all of the photos and frames into pile on the floor.

"Look out!" George screamed suddenly. The ghost had followed them, it stood a few feet from where Lucy was searching. "It just floated down." He said, his voice calmer now. His distress made the phantom grow angry, and it bared sharp teeth their way. It wasn't pleased with what they were doing.

Slowly, Lucy pulled out her rapier, taking a few step backwards. Than it lunged.

Lucy held back a scream as its arm plunged into her own. There was a hole where magnesium had burned though, a little smaller than the size of a dollar coin. It sizzled, and she had no choice but to drop her weapon.

Acting quickly, Lockwood threw an iron net over all the frames. It disappeared, but Lucy's pain didn't. Lockwood ran forward to where she stood, her face clenched in pain. Then, all went dark for her, and she sank to the floor.


	6. Abrupt Change and Ending

Lockwood paced the office at 35 Portland Row, feeling despair and anxiety. George sat on the the chair next to him, holding a paper but not reading. This was nearly identical to what had happened when Robin had passed. Finally, the pressure got to him.

"I can't take it! I'm going to go check on her." Lockwood cracked, looking close to tears, a quality George had never seen on him before. Lucy was in the hospital three day and it was already tough.

"The doctor says the only way she has a chance is with calm and stillness." George sighed. He knew about Lockwood's pain and worry, and he understood how he felt. He couldn't find himself just sitting watching him suffer like this.

"I will call a cab." He said, picking up the phone.

They walked into Lucy's room and George gasped. Lucy was pale, her arm up in a sling, though through the bandages, it was an ugly purple and blue, and swollen like a balloon. She was nowhere near being awake, and she looked closer to being dead. The steady beat of her heart on the monitor was the only thing that calmed Lockwood's heart. He was tired of fighting the fact that they were a company and couldn't be together. Not that way.

George sat down in one of the chairs and fell asleep. Lockwood sat there all day, not moving, just staring at her. Doctors came and went, re-bandaging her arm and replacing the IV. She made no movement until that night.

Having gotten hungry, George had wandered off into the waiting room but Lockwood fought his hunger. As soon as he spotted her eyes flickering, he was over next to her in an instant.

A painful groan was released from her small mouth, and she blinked some more before fully opening her eyes.

"Lockwood?" she asked, her words seemed to get caught on her lips. Lockwood broke again, and leaned over, kissing her on the cheek. "What was that for?" She breathed, barely conscious still. He smiled softly, knowing if she was able to, she probably would've fought him.

"For you," he grinned.

Lucy wouldn't remember Lockwood's moment when she returned, but he would. He would find it difficult not to mimic the experience. But this was his job, his company, and they were all friends and colleagues: nothing more.

The ghost they had dealt with was an evolved Type Two, which they called a Memory. If someone with high pressures of something they regretted or hated, it would feed off of it, the source anything that could contain any part of the past, such as picture-frames.

Lucy was alright, just in a cast for a while, the ghost was contained and the frames destroyed. Lockwood finally allowed Robin to sink to the past with it, hoping that George or Lucy wouldn't have another problem like it had been.

Lockwood and Co continued on, and later solved the Red Room and Screaming Staircase of the large manor. Their fame spread, but still Lockwood remembered that time, waiting for the right moment to make another move….


End file.
